


Alpha

by anniespinkhouse



Series: Mine verse [6]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Animal Traits, Bondage, D/s themes, Dubious Consent, Electrical Play, Explicit Sexual References, Institutionalized slavery, Knife Play, M/M, S/M, Slavery, Violence, dark!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 23:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniespinkhouse/pseuds/anniespinkhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha!Master!Jensen/Human!Slave!Jared. A short interlude from Jensen's POV. It's not easy being the Master of the household, or being an alpha when your pet needs special care.<br/>This is a future!fic verse where humans are kept as slaves by a genetically engineered super-race (Alphas). It may be easier to understand with knowledge of the first five stories. It is a dark verse. You might want to pass it over if you're looking for romance, wine and roses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS DARK!FIC. Please check the tags and click back if any of those themes offend. This is not a nice world and slavery is not depicted as romantic.
> 
> Betas: Thanks to meus_venator and sylsdarkplace for making this better. All mistakes remain my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: Apparently, I cannot stress enough that this is fiction, pure fantasy folks. It isn't true and I wouldn't want it to be true. Nobody here belongs to me and they’re not likely to get in my van for candy any time soon. It is set in an alternate universe, is an exploration of a dystopian society and relationships within it, and it isn't our own,real, J2 who I would never wish harm on. 
> 
> Banner: The pretty, pretty banner has been made by meus_venator. There is more in the art post here including some gorgeous snaggable icons. http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/11486.html Go tell her how wonderful it is!
> 
> AN: After Storm there was some debate over the nature of Jensen's character. While 'Mine' was conceived as a one-shot (cough, not sure what happened there) from Jared's point of view I thought it was time that we had a short insight into Jensen's POV. I don't promise that anyone will like what they see, but I thought I should at least give him a little 'air-time'.

 

Jensen ran his hand up the spine, fingertips trailed over fur-soft skin but he could feel the bump of each vertebra. His fingers splayed, taking in the shape of the ribs and feeling the rapid pitter-patter of the panicking heart. His lips twisted into a smirk as he changed pace. With a twist of his hand, it was over. Bones cracked with satisfying sound and skin twisted, eyes settled and dulled. Blood dripped from the stilled nose.

 

It felt good to kill, like being whole. The effect was immediate and calming as the pent up tension washed away in that one cathartic moment.  He hadn’t done this in years and though it was almost perfect in its satisfaction, he knew it wasn’t enough, would never be enough. Whatever he did, the  _need_ stretched over every bone, nestled just under his skin, crawled and grew, itched and scraped at him until it was sated once more. It was never for long though. Too soon the creeping desire would heat his veins and rip at his mind until there was no choice but to take. So he took Jared’s fear and pain, he absorbed his agony and his sweat, the blood and tears until the fiber of him rejoiced and was complete again. It was what it was to be an alpha, and Jensen knew the desire made him better. It was pure and strong and right.

 

Jensen re-set the trap, swung the dead rabbit by its feet from his hand, picked up the pigeon he had shot earlier and walked through the ancient orchard on his way back to the house. He chewed at his lip as he scanned overgrown trees and long-neglected vegetable patches. Jensen gave a small sigh of relief as he noted the lush green of potato plants choked in long grass, and the huge red-gold umbrella leaves of a rhubarb patch. There was food, he would only have to re-set Steve’s collar to allow him to gather it.

 

His boot struck a bucket catching drips from the broken gutters and he swore as he ducked into the utility room to lay the dead creatures on a plastic sheet and strip his feet of his sturdy, mud-laden boots. His eyes narrowed as he opened the door to the kitchen. Steve, Genevieve and Jody were all in the warm room, heads together, talking quietly. They snapped their attention to him, guilty expressions on all their faces and then averted their eyes.

 

“Is there a reason for this gathering?” Jensen was feeling mellow but his hand still reached to touch his leather belt.

 

Wide eyes greeted his question and Jensen could see Genevieve and Steve looking at Jody, willing her to say something. “No,” they said, as one, and Jody and Steve started to move toward the door. Genevieve turned to the work surface and proceeded to thinly slice a loaf of bread. On the floor by her feet, Jared’s bowl was only half filled with kibble. Jensen’s eyes flicked to the shelf where the slave kibble was usually kept, and it was empty.

 

Mike chose the exact moment to clatter in with a cloth and a bucket of soapy water, “I am freezing, please say the oven is on and there is finally something to eat.” He ground to an awkward halt with a grimace when he saw his Master, and flinched when Jensen raised his hand to halt further words.

 

“Jody, Steve. Come back here.” Jensen couldn’t see their faces but he could sense the fear in them. They halted and turned to face him.

 

“What did you eat for breakfast this morning?”

 

The slaves looked at their feet and shuffled. There was good reason, Jensen felt, why the human era on earth was such a conflicted mess, and this directionless and gutless display was a prime demonstration.

 

“You did eat, right?”

 

Jody spoke now, “There was no kibble, so we thought,” she paused and everyone stared at her, “we thought we should carry on and it might come later, only …”

 

“The grocery order has been refused.” Genevieve hurriedly finished the sentence for Jody. She looked up at her Master with pleading eyes and he could see her cringing.

 

Jensen flicked his gaze back to the loaf of bread and to the kitchen cupboards.  _Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck._

 

“How long is it since you ate properly? When did Jared last have a complete meal?”

 

“We kept some for Jared. We knew …”

 

“How long?” Jensen could feel his temper rising and his pulse quickening.

 

“Jared had half-portions yesterday, he said he didn’t mind, and we didn’t …”

 

“You didn’t eat?”

 

They shook their heads in confirmation.

 

“Damn it!!” Jensen slammed his fist onto the solid wood table and they all jumped, “And nobody told me?”

 

There was a frightened silence.

 

Jensen breathed deep, fighting his annoyance. “It’s only cash flow, it’s not permanent. Nothing is going to happen to you. We will do things differently. A few days, a week at the most.” He didn’t have to explain, was trying to reassure himself more than his slaves and panic wouldn’t help the situation. For a moment he considered whether he should punish them for their stupidity, but since it had already resulted in empty stomachs he decided it wasn’t necessary.

 

“How?” Steve asked nervously.

 

“Gen will make oatmeal for everybody. We have that, yes?”

 

Genevieve nodded, “Plenty, Master.”

 

“Good, so I will also have that, and Jared too. There is a rabbit to skin and a pigeon to pluck, so you can make stew. Fruit and vegetables can be gathered from the garden. Gen and I will make a list of what is in the pantry and plan our meals.”

 

“There was a stunned silence and then Jody squeaked, “A real rabbit?”

 

Jensen glared at her and Mike was quick to the rescue, “I can do that, and um, you should probably know that the heating isn’t working.”

 

The alpha rolled his eyes, “You think I haven’t noticed? You will find some woollen shifts and pants to wear. My uncle used to keep some around.”

 

“Should I find some for Jared?” Mike asked helpfully.

 

Jensen couldn’t help the spike of possession that flared through him, and he growled at the suggestion, “Jared is my concern.” It reminded Jensen how long he’d been away from his pet, and he frowned. “I’ll be in my room. Don’t disturb me.” He walked away from his slaves at a brisk pace, without another word.

 

***

Jensen closed the door softly and leaned by the door frame watching Jared. He reached to one side and silently pressed a button that connected to wires which crossed the room to where Jared was captive. His pet sensed his entrance and turned his blindfolded face in his direction.

 

Jensen took the time to admire his property. Jared was magnificent. Suspended by wrist cuffs from a sturdy hook, his skin gleamed in the light and beads of sweat gathered and made glistening trails over his skin. His toes barely scuffed the floor and his shoulder and arm muscles bulged with the strain of keeping his place. Fine trembles wracked his entire body and he panted heavily through parted and bitten lips. Metal clamps gripped his purpling nipples and the metal weights that hung from them swayed rhythmically with his movement. Jensen grinned as Jared’s soft hair followed the movement of his head, swishing through air and disturbing one of the jewelry-fine metal chains that dangled at assorted heights and in varying distances from Jared’s body. The alpha groaned in delight when the chain shook and glanced onto one of the nipple weights. Jared jerked back, with his whole body rigid and gave a pathetic screech as a controlled electric shock coursed through him. It was one of Jensen’s favorite noises. If he hadn’t knotted his pet so thoroughly only a few hours earlier his dick would definitely be standing up and paying attention.

 

“Oh! Jared. What did you do?” Jensen spoke in a loud throaty whisper and let the words hang dangerously in the air. He knew the edge had been taken off his own keen addiction with his morning kill, but Jared’s need for pain was still raw.

 

Jared’s sudden jolt had him swinging large arcs about the hook, his toes frantically stretching for the floor, but it was too late. Jensen moved closer to delight in the marionette show as Jared was shocked repeatedly by the fine swinging chains all around him. He was particularly pleased with the one that was perfectly placed to slap into Jared’s balls, making him shriek and plead. The blindfold became stained with tears as Jared started to cry and his movements became ever more exaggerated.

 

Jensen moved in close. He spoke in a low lilting drawl, with an almost hypnotic quality, “Not a bad time but not a good one either. Are you done, Jared?” He knew he wasn’t.

 

Jared gritted his teeth, “No, Master.” Another shock jolted through him and he hissed and tensed. A tear dripped from under his blindfold, stained a path down his cheek and over his jaw to join the sweat that pooled in the dips of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed and Jensen gave in to his urge to dip his head in and take a nip, to suck at it and bite until it bruised and bled. Chain connected with the back of Jared’s neck and the shared shock blazed and tingled through Jensen, making him shudder and laugh with brief, sharp hysteria. He wrapped his arms around Jared tightly, preventing further jerked motion and steadied him back to the tips of his toes, before licking away the tears that rolled down his face. They were salty, sweet, warm and delicious and he savored them on the tip of his tongue before swallowing.

 

He backed away and turned off the electric current as silently as he had switched it on. Jared was shaking with exhaustion and the tears still flowed, but he had performed with merit. Jensen walked to his toy cabinet and slid a drawer open. He could hear a sharp intake of breath from his pet and he knew Jared was wondering what he would take from it. His fingers closed around smooth cold steel and light reflected from a clean, finely-honed blade. He smiled.

 

Jensen angled the blade perfectly against Jared’s skin. He couldn’t afford to cut deep, the ointment that healed those wounds was expensive, and he wouldn’t risk his pet’s perfection. Jared didn’t have to know that though. Jensen let the flat of the blade rest over his pet’s heart, allowed his fingers to rest with it, absorbing the  _thu-thump_  of his racing heart, his palm rising and falling with the too quick and too shallow inhale and exhale of Jared’s lungs. “You can beg me to stop. Do you want me to stop, Jared?”

 

“No, Master.” The answer came on soft breath which Jared hardly dared to release for fear of electric shock or a slip of Jensen’s knife.

 

Jensen’s toes curled with excitement. Jared was truly delicious this way, so very good for him. He left the blade in place and tugged hard on the left nipple clamp, tugging it off viciously. Jared’s head fell back, and he screamed. More tears dripped, and Jared gave a ragged sob. Jensen shivered with delight.  He stood on his tiptoes and whispered hot in the shell of Jared’s ear, “You want more pain?”

 

“Yes, please Master,” the reply came, but the voice was shaky, unsure.

 

Jensen drew the blade, oh, so slowly, with even pressure, in a circle around Jared’s right nipple and then halted. Jared whined. Jensen knew it must sting. A faint, wet, crimson line appeared in its wake and Jensen leaned in to lap his tongue over it and taste the hot, salt and copper blood of his property. He used his other hand to grip the nipple clamp carefully and gradually open its jaws. He released the nipple with utmost care and latched his lips around it, sucking blood and warmth back into it. It wracked more sobs from Jared as circulation returned. Tiny pricks of blood continued to appear in the shallow cut. He brushed his finger over it, worried at it, and spread it over the smooth, damp surface of Jared’s chest. He moved from his nipple to slide wet tongue all over it, cleaning it up, tasting his art. He worked slow, took his time and breathed in the smell of fear and exhilaration.

 

Jensen smacked his lips as he pulled away. He placed a palm on Jared’s cheek and stroked fingers over his jaw. “Oh, Sweetie, you taste fantastic but it is time to get you down from here.”

 

Jared squirmed into the soft touch of his fingertips and moaned.

 

Jensen altered the angle of the knife until it dug a needle-sharp hole in Jared’s skin, “You don’t get to decide.” He twisted his blade to rest back at an angle on Jared’s skin and traced it over his chest and up his neck. He let it move, cold and threatening over Jared’s jaw-line and run an icy caress along the upper line of his collar without a single cut to the creamy, delicate skin. He felt the shiver of his pet’s flesh with every inch that it traveled. Jared went rigid with fear as the blade nosed under his blindfold but Jensen twisted his hand in a moment to cut through the fabric and then dropped the knife, with a clatter, to the floor. Jared blinked puffy, red eyes and squinted into the face of his Master. Jensen wiped his tears with the pads of his fingertips and his plump pink lips slid against his pet’s mouth. He kissed Jared with fervor, and Jared let him steal his breath and taste his pain.

 

Jensen loved the time, at the end of Jared’s discipline sessions, in a way he never had with any other slave. After the sobbing and tears ceased, Jared was sleepy and content, his firm planes, somehow softer. Fulfilled and calm, Jared’s tip-tilted eyes lost their guile to become soft and dark in their honesty. It might be just a little crazy but it made Jensen want to nurture and protect him, and when he took the time to cuddle together or settle Jared close enough that they remained touching, there was a warm feeling that continued to calm the alpha, long after the rush of satisfaction had worn off from the discipline itself. It was a goddamn revelation, and Jensen didn’t want to examine the phenomenon too closely. It was better than sex and almost as good as killing.

 

***

His royalties payment still wasn’t in his account that afternoon, and Jensen had tried every contact he knew at his publishers. His payments had been frozen and everyone was giving him the run around. He wondered if his father would lend him money to tide him over, but he remembered his reaction to Jensen deciding to move into the mansion in the first place. His parents would be insufferable with suggestions that he give up and sell it. They would never understand how much he loved the old place.

 

Jared lay on his cushion, by Jensen’s side and Jensen adjusted the soft comforter he had laid over him, to keep him warm while he slept. He stroked at the soft brunette hair, rolled the length of it in his fingers. Jared’s hair needed a trim and Jensen had hoped to take him to the pet groomers, but he might have to see if Jody or Genevieve could make a decent job of it. Their hair was always kept tidy and he supposed they must cut it themselves.

 

He stood and stamped his feet, waved his arms and jogged on the spot. His breath chuffed steam curls into the air.  It really was  _cold_  without any heating. He eyed the long disused fireplace and wondered if the chimney was clean enough to use it safely.

 

He sat back down at his desk and looked up Jeff’s number in Paris. His hand wavered over the touchpad but he couldn’t make the call. Jeff had insisted that Jensen was wrong to return to the States and warned him that his book made him a target for every over-zealous tax official or local councillor. It turned out he hadn’t been wrong about that.

 

Jeff remained a dear friend but Jensen didn't regret leaving the older alpha. He couldn’t imagine continuing the constant, tiring battle that had been their relationship. It had been a classic hard-headed alpha affair. All push and pull with battles that ended in grappling and bruising sex where neither would submit to be bottom. His bed slave, Richard, inevitably became the target of their frustration and then the meat in their sandwich, taking both knots while they grunted and rutted harshly, kissing each other till their lips were swollen and the saliva dripped from them. When they were done, it would be Richard that Jeff would curl up close with, to care for, when all Jensen wanted was to eject the slave from their bed and hold Jeff to him, but Jeff didn't like to be held.

 

Jensen deleted Jeff’s number and leaned over to kiss Jared on the head. He summoned Steve and instructed him to gather wood for the fireplaces in the library and in the main reception room. His pet stirred and sighed, then rubbed his head into Jensen’s leg before settling again, and the action made Jensen smile.

 

***

Mike insisted on finding long brushes to sweep the chimneys before he laid the fires. His inexperience became apparent when he was flat on his back with soot blackening his face, egg yolk on his head and some sort of bird was flapping about in the reception area. Jensen was informed of the disaster by his terrified group of slaves, but when he actually walked in on the scene, it was too funny to stay angry. He roared with a belly-aching laughter, and his slaves stared at him wide-eyed and confused. He left them to clean up with a gruff warning that it better be perfect.

 

In late afternoon, Jensen challenged Jared to perform sit-ups and push-ups to keep warm and he hadn’t disappointed his Master. He kept pace until Jensen called time for dinner.  
  
Rabbit stew was surprisingly tasty. Jensen spoon fed Jared under the table, gravy was spilled and there was more laughter with the lick of Jared’s tongue over his hand. Jensen’s own good mood surprised him. He was oddly cheerful for an alpha with no money and a house that was disintegrating around him. There was a slight worry that eating with his slaves was becoming routine and might lead to accusations that he was too close to them to be an effective owner, but he couldn’t see any evidence of it. They had all been obedient and worked together to make a poor situation better.  _War-time mentality_  was the phrase that came to Jensen’s mind. It was just another fascinating insight for his next book. He wasn’t going to think about how content he felt when they were all together, with Jared at his side.

 

***

It was when Jensen was settled in the reception room with a beer, a miserable smoky fire and slightly damp floor that he had time to examine the item that his father had sent to him several days before.

 

“Jared!” He tapped his leg to bring his pet close, “I want to show you something.”

 

“For you.” He displayed a heavy-duty leather harness complete with soldered restraint rings, and cuffs for wrist and ankles. Jared’s eyes widened and there was an almost immediate skittishness about him.

 

“You can hold it.”

 

Jared kneeled to take it nervously from his Master. Jensen watched him carefully. Jared held it in two fingers, away from his body, as if it could do physical harm, and his face paled. His reaction was unsettling for Jensen, and he wondered what memories made him so nervous of such a simple item. He was suddenly thankful of his father’s advice to introduce the harness gradually, a long time before he needed to use it. He thought grimly that he might have plenty of time to get Jared comfortable in it. His visit to the vet was delayed a bit more with every hit to his bank balance. Vet bills were notoriously expensive, and if Jared wasn’t sick, then it wasn’t a necessity right now.

 

Jared still held it tentatively, and he wouldn’t look at it. Jensen decided it was time to play a game he had introduced the day after he put Jared out. He allowed himself a brief moment of smug self-satisfaction. Chris may have criticized him for using that training method, and the storm had been unexpected, but the results were undeniable. There had been no rebellion from Jared since being put-out. In fact, Jared’s behavior had been exemplary.

 

“Pop-quiz Jared. First word you think of when you look at the harness.” They had played the game many times in the intervening weeks. It allowed Jared no time to plan his reply. There was no right or wrong answer, the only requirement being to answer immediately.

 

“Bad-Pet.”

 

He could see the curl of Jared’s fingertips into the carpet and the faint tremble of his lip. Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Second word, Jared.”

 

“Vet.”

 

Jensen knew that if his father was there he would have asked more, pressed Jared for the incident and the consequences, but Jensen had seen Jared’s records. Jared had never had any approved and recorded surgery, not even a piercing. He  _had_  been castrated, and Jensen could guess the behavior that incurred that punishment. What sort of failed treatments had been used to prevent unfortunate teenage erections, before it got to that point? What sort of vet would agree to carry out the procedure on a show-pet? There was a disquiet that he pushed to the back of his mind about the main reason for his intended visit to the vet. If Jared associated having a hard-on with being a bad pet, how was he going to react to having the castration reversed? 

 

It didn’t matter, the surgery was essential if Jared was going to satisfy Jensen long-term. It was getting increasingly difficult to accept his lack of enthusiasm during penetrative sex. Half the fun of having any slave as your toy was watching them squirm and beg for the release of an orgasm, and having the power to deny or permit it. 

 

“If you don’t want to, then you don’t have to wear it today. My father has altered it a little, it’s a bit different to what you might be used to. Look at it properly and I will show you.”

 

There was a relieved sigh from Jared, but the anxiety didn’t leave his face.

 

“Here. Up. Let me cuddle you.”

 

Jared climbed on to the huge sofa with Jensen, to lie partly on his lap, skin smooth and hot against him, hair tickling at his chin. Jensen stroked his back, feeling the bony nubs of his spine.

 

“Okay, so you know how it fits. This one has a detachable pouch and butt strap so nobody can grope you when you are out, but the vet can remove them to treat you.”

 

Jared tensed, and Jensen had to stop himself from rebuking him. Instead he demonstrated by wiggling his finger in the pouch. “They’re really soft. So are the insides of the cuffs.” He lifted Jared’s right hand and placed it on the leather. “See?”

 

They stroked their hands over the leather for a few minutes and the tension started to leave Jared’s body.

 

“I AM going to take you to the vet, but not for a while. I want to get you tagged. Do you know what that is?”

 

Jared blinked and looked disbelieving, “It’s an injection. It puts an identifier into my blood. It can’t be removed.”

 

Jensen continued to pet him. “I told you, you are mine, and I am going to keep you.”

 

Jared snuggled in close and threw his arms around Jensen’s waist. “Thank you,” he murmured.

 

“There are some other reasons to see the vet, but I need you to remember that it isn’t because you’ve been bad. It isn’t punishment. Okay?”

 

Jared nodded, but Jensen could see the worry was back.

 

Jensen showed Jared two leather pockets within the harness. “There is a sensor, to warn me if we get separated, and a locator to find you. In the cuff there is a hidden button which you can reach, even if your wrists are bound, by bending your longest finger on the same hand. If I am hurt or don’t find you, then it will send your location to my father and to Master Christian until one of them responds. Your name and registration details are obviously still in your collar for anyone to scan.

 

Jared looked confused, “Then why?”

 

“Because you are beautiful and not every alpha is honest. Even some enforcers have been known to make quick money selling displaced slaves.” Jensen ruffled his hair, “It’s not going to happen to you. I just want to be sure.”

 

Jared curled up as small as he could manage next to Jensen. He could make himself surprisingly compact for a pet who was taller than Jensen when standing. His fingers kneaded into his Master’s shirt, and Jensen decided it was enough conversation on the subject for one day.

 

Jensen left Jared to doze on the couch while he prowled the house searching for his ugliest antiques to sell, to cover the cost of food and heating repairs. He made a list of essential groceries, and slave kibble was the first item on it, even before his own supplies.

 

***

 

Three frustrating days later, Jensen considered thrashing Jared, burning the soles of his feet and forcing him to wear the harness while he was bound in place for discipline. His father had talked him out of it over visi-link, insisting that such an approach would only exacerbate the long-term problem. Jensen took his temper out on Jared during his daily discipline anyway, choosing the pain of a holed paddle and the humiliation of folding Jared over his lap in the kitchen chair, for all the other slaves to witness. Jared took it all, shattered perfectly and seemed oblivious to Jensen’s irritation with him.

 

Jared’s ass cheeks purpled with blooming bruises as he limped to the barn at a standard two paces behind Jensen.

 

“Ta-Da.” Jensen pointed to the neon-green vehicle housed in the barn. Jared stood next to him and stared.  
  
Jensen bounced on his heels excitedly, “It’s my Chatsworth. What do you think?”   
  
Jared looked lost for words. Jensen wasn’t surprised. It was a light-use, multi-sports model, one of the fastest cars on the market, with capability of land and water hover or classic road wheels. He had blown the entire advance for his first book on it, and it was awesome. 

 

“It … it’s small,” spat out Jared eventually, “Where does my cage fit?” He looked earnestly at his Master.

 

Jensen smiled at the forward remark. Jared was gradually opening up to him. “I  _can’t_  fit a cage in there, which is why you have to get used to your harness.” He clapped his hands and the passenger door slid open silently to give access to the front passenger seat. “Sit, Jared.”

 

“In there?”

 

“In that seat.” Jensen could see curiosity warring with terror in Jared, but the hesitation was unacceptable, and he knew he had to correct him. He raised his hand quickly and the slap to Jared’s cheek was swift and left a cherry-red imprint. “I gave you an order.”

 

Jared hurried to get in the Chatsworth. He sat nervously and winced in obvious pain as his ass met the firm fabric-covered seat and he folded his legs into the cramped space in front of it.

 

“Good boy,” reassured Jensen, and he did mean it. Sometimes his pet needed encouragement. “How does it feel? You can touch.”

 

Jared’s fingers explored the dashboard and then he turned to examine the sturdy rings and bolts which were fixed to the ceiling and seat. “Does my harness lock into these, Jensen?”

 

“Yes, and I will have the key. It is illegal to have you unsecured in the front of a vehicle, and if you’re not harnessed emergency services won’t rescue you after an accident.” Jensen crouched low beside him, “But it’s still phenomenal, right?”

 

“I would see everything from here,” Jared said. Jensen’s heart skipped a beat at Jared’s bright-eyed and awed expression. “It’s incredible. I’ve never been anywhere. Not to see it.”

 

“Then you’ll wear the harness?”

 

Jared chewed his lip and blew a long breath.

 

“I will not tolerate this refusal much longer,” Jensen insisted with a scowl, before remembering to soften his features and attempt to coax Jared from his fear, “I miss reading with you, pet. We could find a book about journeys.”

 

Jared shook his head and squeezed his eyes tight. When he opened them he raised a steady hazel gaze to his Master, “Yes. I want to.”

 

Jensen wanted to fist-pump the air or do a dance but he just turned on his heel and started back to the house with an impatient growl, “Your refusal was such a stupid waste of my time, Sweetie.” His sideways glance took in Jared’s pitiful expression at having disappointed his Master and Jensen couldn’t help the natural kick of satisfaction he got from his hurt. He smirked.

 

 

~~~

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback and discussion of any part of my fic. If I have errors let me know, but anything telling me how sick I am/wrong this verse is will be deleted. You really didn't have to read this far. Please comment in English if possible or from an active A03 account. Previous experiences suggest that google translate doesn't do such a great job and can lead to bad feeling so non- English comments not linked to an active account will be deleted.


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